


Possession

by alkjira



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Thorin, Control Issues, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, M/M, Smut, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thorin is afraid of himself and Bilbo proves yet again that he's good at solving problems/ fixing Thorin's less than awesome plans.</p><p>- - - - -<br/><em>He wanted Bilbo. He <strong>needed </strong>Bilbo, as much as he’d ever needed anything or anyone.</em></p><p>  <em> Only, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to be gentle now.</em></p><p>  <em> He wanted to possess. He wanted to take. But most of all, he didn’t want to hurt Bilbo.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so this turned a bit too serious on me. Just a bit.  
> It was actually supposed to be a 5+1 things, but I don't know what the hell happened. It got long, and not at all like I thought.
> 
> Damn mutating plot bunnies.
> 
> (Will read again in the morning to chase down grammar mistakes and such, if you see something weird, please let me know)

Thorin had been careful.  
  
Starting already with the first time he and Bilbo kissed he’d been trying very hard to be careful.  
  
He was very much aware that Bilbo was not a Dwarf. That he was smaller - and despite being remarkably steadfast and enduring – that his kind was not created from stone but from something much softer.  
  
Bilbo wasn’t weak, and Thorin would never call him fragile after what he had seen him withstand and accomplish, but the first time Thorin found bruises on his Hobbit’s hips; bruises which were a perfect match for his own fingers, he swore to himself it wouldn’t happen again.   
  
As far as he knows he’s kept that promise.  
  
But now he was equally sure he wouldn’t be able to keep it for much much longer.  
  
They’d arrived to Lake-town at last, and they were to stay one night before departing for Erebor.  
  
It was going to be the first night, and last night, in a long while when they would be safe and warm and comfortable, and every single piece of Thorin’s body and spirit wanted to share that night with Bilbo. Wanted to have him in his bed, in his arms.  
  
Ever since Thorin realised that Bilbo had not been taken by the Elven guards like the rest of them; that he had been left on his own in that accursed forest, there’d been something dark crawling beneath his skin. And it had persisted even after Bilbo had returned to them, returned to _him_.  
  
The itch beneath his skin still insisted that he’d make sure Bilbo was all right. _Demanding_ that he’d make sure of it. Suggesting that he should to strip Bilbo bare and investigate every inch of him, making sure he was unharmed and whole and entirely, completely, _Thorin's._  
  
Only that desire had been denied over and over again, first by guards and iron bars, and then barrels and Orcs, and after that by the presence of his Company and Bard the Bargeman. But denial had only made it grow.  
  
Now that they were all safe in Lake-town it felt like Thorin’s very blood was singing with the need to have Bilbo in his arms. They’d shared one kiss while still in Thranduil’s dungeons, then Thorin had tried to hold on to Bilbo as best as he could while they were swept down the river by the swift currents, and they’d been seated side by side as the Man, Bard, brought them to Lake-town; Bilbo's smaller body pressed against his own.  
  
It was not nearly enough.  
  
During the dinner the Master of Lake-town had given in their honour Thorin had been sitting much too far away from his Hobbit. But even so, just the line of Bilbo’s bared neck, the glimpse of a wrist as he reached out to fill his plate, the pink of his lips… that had been enough to make Thorin’s cock thicken and fill against his thigh. And the itch beneath his skin had started again, though it had never entirely gone away.  
  
He wanted Bilbo. He _needed_ Bilbo, as much as he’d ever needed anything or anyone.  
  
Only, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to be gentle now.  
  
He wanted to possess. He wanted to take. But most of all, he didn’t want to hurt Bilbo.  
  
He never wanted to hurt him. So he wouldn’t.  
  
-

Bilbo stared in mild shock at the closed door.  
  
On the other side of that door was one Thorin Oakenshield. The very same Thorin who had just closed the door in his face.

Earlier that night Bilbo had been entirely certain that he’d be on the same side of that door as Thorin when it closed. How could he have expected anything else considering the way Thorin had been looking at him all evening.  
  
It’d been rather flattering really; being looked at as if he was something infinitely delicious that Thorin couldn’t wait to get his hands on. And hopefully his mouth as well.

It'd made him interested enough that Bilbo had been entirely ready to leave the dinner early; following as Thorin left, and considering that he’d not eaten properly in weeks…  
  
When they'd been sitting at the table Thorin’s eyes had been dark, like the sky just before the first crack of thunder, and there’d been no hiding the flush on his face.  
  
Thorin was always worth looking at, that was something Bilbo had figured out very early after making his acquaintance. And it seemed to Bilbo as if he'd been even more gorgeous than normal earlier that night.  
  
Only now Bilbo was on the wrong side of the door and Thorin had wished him a good night and proceeded to shut himself inside his room, to touch himself, or so Bilbo had to assume, because he knew what Thorin looked like when he was aroused; he’d seen it up close and personal on several occasions, and Thorin had most definitely been very aroused.  
  
Wanking wasn’t a bad idea, but Bilbo would like _some_ sort of explanation as to why they couldn’t at least do it together. They’d shared a bed before, and it didn’t look like Thorin had grown tired of him. The looks he’d received all night were not the kind you gave to people you _didn’t_ want to see naked.  
  
Thorin wanted him but didn’t want him? Surely there was an actual explanation to be had, and Bilbo wanted to hear it.  
  
He knocked on the door and then opened it without actually waiting for a response.  
  
“Look, I know I’m being rude, but could you- Thorin?”

Seated on his bed, appearing to be distracted by a thorough study of his hands, Thorin didn’t look up as Bilbo entered the room.  
  
“I thought we’d bid each other a good night already, Master Baggins.”  
  
“Oh no, no, no,” Bilbo protested. “We’re not back to you calling me Master Baggins. We’re entirely past that point in this-  We're past it. And no, we did not bid each other a good night. You muttered something along those lines and then you closed a door in my face.”  
  
Bilbo shut the door behind him, using a little more force than strictly necessary. “That door, to be precise.”  
  
“I wish to be alone.”

“Did I do something?” Bilbo asked when Thorin didn't go on to explain why exactly he wanted to be alone. “Is that why you’re here and why you’re calling me Master Baggins? I thought-“ he bit his lip. “We’ve not spent any time alone together since we were at Beorn’s. If you don’t want to- we could- I’d be happy just to sleep next to you. Actually sleep. I-“  
  
“I can’t be around you right now,” Thorin said tightly, and he still wasn’t looking at him.  
  
Bilbo’s shoulders slumped.

So he _had_ done something and Thorin wasn’t even going to let him try and sort it out? He knew that they’d not promised each other anything, but he’d hoped…  
  
“Right,” he said. “Well, I- I am sorry for causing offence.”  
  
Thorin huffed, and _still_ didn’t bother raising his head to actually meet Bilbo’s eyes. “You’ve not offended me.”  
  
“You don’t have to coddle me,” Bilbo said, a little stiffly. “I won’t say that you owe me an explanation, our… arrangement was apparently not of that nature, but I would be thankful if you’d not lie to me either.”  
  
“Lying?” Thorin repeated. “I am not lying to you, Ma-“  
  
“Don’t call me that,” Bilbo snapped, and he must have surprised Thorin, because the Dwarf finally lifted his head to look at him.  
  
Bilbo almost gasped when their eyes met.  
  
If Thorin’s eyes could have been said to be thunder-blue before they now had more similarities to a lightning storm. Dark and brilliant and even… dangerous?  
  
If he’d not known Thorin for quite some time now he’d believed he was furious. Only, he’d seen Thorin angry. And this wasn’t even close.  
  
“Thorin, what’s _wrong_?” Bilbo said, stepping closer.  
  
-  
  
Close enough that Thorin could smell him; the sweet, fresh smell of something that wasn’t grass, and obviously couldn’t be sunshine because that didn’t even have a smell, but grass and sunshine was still what Thorin’s mind insisted that it must be.  
  
He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into tight fists in his lap.

But he wasn’t strong enough. When the first touch came to his shoulder Thorin broke and he surged up to wrap his arms around Bilbo, claiming his mouth in something that could only be called a kiss if you used a fair bit good-will to describe it.  
  
As soon as their lips met something inside Thorin's mind went still and quiet, and he came back to himself only when small hands pushed insistently at his chest.  
  
“Leave,” Thorin said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, stepping back, away from Bilbo.  
  
“No,” Bilbo protested, and a pink tongue darted out to wet lips that were already swollen. Swollen and bruised. A pang of regret spiked in Thorin’s chest, but also something darker, something that wanted to bite marks into Bilbo’s neck and make him whimper and plead for _more_.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Thorin said, his voice almost cracking, and he took another step backwards. And another when Bilbo followed him.  
  
“Hurt me? Thorin? Why would you think-“  
  
“I can’t be… gentle. Bilbo, I can’t. Not now. I want you too much. I’m sorry, you should leave. I won’t hurt you. I’ll- we can speak in the morning.”  
  
Bilbo was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  
-  
  
Bilbo didn’t entirely understand what was going on, but he was sure of three things. Thorin wanted him, he wanted Thorin, and Thorin didn’t want to hurt him.  
  
Why Thorin thought that he’d hurt him now when he'd previously been one of the most gentle and considerate lovers that Bilbo had ever had, well that was something he felt they’d have to discuss. But that would have to wait until a time when Thorin didn’t look like Bilbo was the one about to hurt _him_.

“Could you lie back on the bed?” Bilbo asked, and surprise and frustration flashed over Thorin’s face before being replaced by desire. Desire and fear.  
  
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Thorin repeated and Bilbo nodded.

“Yes, you  _won't_  hurt me.”

“Bilbo, I just said-“  
  
“Yes, I know, what you said. You don’t think you can be gentle." The kiss had indeed not been what Bilbo would call gentle, but Thorin's hands hadn't squeezed or grapsed, they'd only rubbed warm, slow circles on Bilbo's back.   
  
"I’ll just have to be gentle enough for both of us.” Bilbo nodded towards the bed. “Lie back on the bed, and-“ he flicked his eyes over it. “And hold on to the headboard. It looks sturdy enough. And then you’ll let me be… gentle with you.”

-  
  
The stubborn look on Bilbo’s face was very familiar to Thorin. It was the look he always had when he’d realised that there was a problem that needed solving, only he didn’t really expect Thorin to like the solution he had in mind.  
  
Thorin looked at the bed’s headboard. The frame and headboard were both made out of sturdy-looking wood, the headboard consisting of eight thick slats, evenly spaced, running vertically into the frame. They’d be too thick for Bilbo to wrap his hands around, but not for Thorin.  
  
He flexed his hands. “Bilbo- I-“  
  
“I _won’t_ let you hurt me.”  
  
Thorin closed his eyes, but only for a moment before he looked at Bilbo. “Very well. Tell me if I need to-”  
  
“Just get on the bed, please.”  
  
He’d only taken a few steps when Bilbo stopped him.  
  
“Thorin, wait.”  
  
Thorin froze. Bilbo had realised it was too big of a risk. He didn’t trust Thorin to stop if he told him to. He didn’t trust him to control himself that much. And with good reason. He-  
  
“It would be easier if you took off your clothes before lying down.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Bilbo smiled at him. “Your clothes. You should take them off.”  
  
And perhaps leading by example, Bilbo then started removing his own.  
  
Realising that he was staring Thorin quickly busied himself with his own garments. Fumbling a little over unfamiliar claps and laces as he had not yet become accustomed to the clothes borrowed from the Men of Lake-town.

-

“There we go,” Bilbo said as Thorin stretched out on the bed. He sounded a little out of breath even to himself. “That’s, lovely,” he added when Thorin wrapped his fingers around the sturdy wooden boards, making the thick muscle of his arms and shoulders bunch and flex.  
  
And Thorin _truly_ was lovely. Bilbo hadn’t really had the chance to watch him like this on their previous times together.

Thorin was thick and sturdy and nicely furred all over, his cock still more than half-hard against his belly, and Bilbo licked his lips and quickly wriggled out of the last of his clothes.  
  
“Just hold on to that, and tell me if I do something you don’t like. Would you- I could ride you, like this. Or if you wanted to, I could have you. If you wanted?”  
  
They’d not done it like that before, and Bilbo wasn’t sure if that was because Thorin didn’t like it or if three times just wasn’t enough to base any conclus-  
  
“Yes. Take me,” Thorin rasped, his voice gone thick and gravelly with need, and Bilbo’s attention snapped back to him as if it’d been on a leash that just had been pulled. “Hard. Until I can’t think of anything else. Make me feel you for _days_.”  
  
Very well then.  
  
“Do you have anything?” Bilbo asked as he realised that they needed something to slick the way. “Oil?”  
  
“It's not necessary.”  
  
Bilbo frowned. “Of course it’s necessary. You don’t want to hurt me? Well I don’t want to hurt you either. So do you have any oil or not?”  
  
-  
  
Thorin shook his head, clenching his fingers tighter until he imagined he could feel the grain of the smooth wood beneath his skin.  
  
“There’s got to be some in the kitchens,” Bilbo said as he patted over to where he’d left his borrowed clothes. ““I’ll- I’ll be right back,” Bilbo promised as he pulled on his trousers without bothering to put on his underclothes first. “Please don’t go anywhere. Please?”  
  
“These are my rooms,” Thorin pointed out. “Where would I go?”  
  
“Just, stay,” Bilbo said as he snagged his coat and put it on, no shirt of any sort beneath it. He started for the door, but stopped and turned back.  
  
Desire roared once again in Thorin’s chest when he got a closer look at Bilbo’s flushed cheeks and dark eyes, and when Bilbo leaned in to kiss him Thorin arched up, wanting, needing-  
  
“Shh, no,” Bilbo said, pushing gently at his chest. “Lie back.”  
  
Only when Thorin’s back was pressed against the mattress once more did Bilbo bend down and kiss him, pressing lightly on Thorin’s chest every time he began to move.

“I’ll be right back,” Bilbo promised as he straightened back up again, and Thorin nodded, looking after him as he opened the door and disappeared.  
  
-  
  
“Please still be there,” Bilbo murmured beneath his breath as he climbed the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. _And if he was indeed there, don’t look relived_ , he added silently to himself.  
  
He wasn’t at all sure what he was doing, but he was still sticking to the basics of how he wanted Thorin, how Thorin wanted him, and how Thorin didn’t want to hurt him. He should be able to make those three things into something that worked.  
  
And Thorin had gone along with the first step of his plan. So as soon as he figured out step two, well, there was hope that he’d go along with it as well.  
  
Unless step two was the part where he got to have Thorin, because if so, he’d already gone along with it, and quite enthusiastically at that.  
  
Bilbo’s cock gave an interested twitch at the memory of how Thorin had sounded and he walked a little bit quicker still, glaring down at the steps that were just oversized enough to be a bother when climbing.  
  
-  
  
Thorin flinched minutely when the door creaked open, but he kept his face blank when Bilbo scampered inside.  
  
His Hobbit placed a small bowl on the dresser by the door and then quickly shrugged out of his coat, trying to push his trousers down at the same time.

Grabbing the bowl again Bilbo moved towards the bed, and the closer he got the quicker Thorin’s heart pounded. The stronger was the desire to reach out and _take_.  
  
“Bilbo, what are we doing?” Thorin murmured.

A little startled Bilbo met Thorin’s eyes, but the surprise quickly faded into a warm smile. “I have absolutely no idea, but I’ve not known what I’ve been doing since before Gandalf came around to talk about adventures. And think I’ve managed quite well even so.”

 “And you want this?” Thorin asked, tightening his grip on the headboard.  
  
Bilbo nodded. “I want _you_. Very much.”  
  
Thorin sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and then he spread his legs.  
  
It was… gratifying, the way it made Bilbo’s eyes grow wide, and the way the hand holding the bowl of oil wobbled until the precious contents almost spilled to the floor.  
  
Thorin’s eyebrows quirked when he heard Bilbo curse.  
  
“You do not usually curse.”  
  
“I do not usually do this either,” Bilbo muttered. His gaze was almost a physical sensation on Thorin’s skin as he looked him over. “You’re beautiful.”  
  
“Touch me,” Thorin said in reply, expecting Bilbo to dip his fingers in the oil and get him ready. Instead Bilbo but it on the small table next to the bed and proceeded to climb up on the bed, stretching out on his side next to Thorin.  
  
Thorin hissed when Bilbo’s hand stroked over his chest, tangling in the coarse curls covering it, and when Bilbo stretched up for a kiss Thorin eagerly bent his head to return it.  
  
They kissed for what seemed like a long time and no time at all.  
  
Whenever Thorin moved too much, or when his grip on the headboard loosened, Bilbo pulled back and gently nudged and pushed him back into place again. But he didn’t seem to mind when Thorin licked his way into Bilbo’s mouth, or when Thorin couldn’t stop the occasional rumbling growl that escaped from his chest.  
  
Bilbo also seemed to know when Thorin grasped the headboard hard enough to make his knuckles whiten, and on such occasions Bilbo always gentled the kiss until Thorin was able to loosen his grip.

His cock was hard and leaking by the time Bilbo finally reached out for the bowl and moved down the bed, and he spread his legs wider in welcome.  
  
“Do you want to turn around?”  
  
Thorin shook his head. “No. I- need to see you.”

“We’ll need one of the pillows then,” Bilbo murmured, could you pass me one? You better move your arms anyway, just for a bit. Otherwise you’ll get a nasty cramp.”  
  
Thorin hesitated, fingers twitching. Then he slowly opened his hands, moving his arms down until he could reach one of the down-stuffed pillows and pass it to Bilbo.

-  
  
“Any pins and needles?” Bilbo asked when Thorin flexed his arms, muscle and sinew moving enticingly beneath his skin. When Thorin shook his head again Bilbo continued:

“I think, if you pull your legs up like this-“ He nudged at Thorin’s thigh, sliding his hands down to press on the back of his knees. “A little more, up against your chest- yes, and now move your hands down here to help hold your legs up. Exactly like that. I think this will lessen the risk of you hurting yourself. Just keep holding your legs like that.”  
  
Thorin was now lying on his back, his legs pulled up and out, and resting on his own arms; hands holding on to the back of his thighs just above his knees.  
  
The headboard had seemed a good idea at first, but Thorin held on so tightly and the edges of the boards were too sharp. This… was a lot prettier, sure, but Bilbo also hoped it’d lessen the risk of Thorin hurting himself.

Dipping his fingers into the bowl of oil Bilbo tried to figure out what to do with it; he’d like to have both his hands free.  
  
“Lie still,” he told Thorin as he placed the bowl high on Thorin’s stomach.  
  
The Dwarf huffed, but didn’t make any objections beyond that, so Bilbo flashed him a quick smile as he reached down and started rubbing his forefinger around Thorin’s opening.  
  
As he pressed it inside Bilbo bit back another curse. Thorin was so hot. He wasn’t as tight as Bilbo had feared - he was worried that Thorin would object if the preparation dragged out too long, and he didn’t want him to think about such things.  
  
He wanted him not to think at all.  
  
So when Bilbo’s finger nudged up against a spot that made Thorin’s jaw drop open and his eyes go glassy he made sure to take proper advantage of it.  
  
-  
  
It took a great deal of Thorin’s concentration just to keep holding on to his legs.  
  
Three of Bilbo’s clever fingers were now inside him, thrusting and twisting and pushing against something inside of him that made light flicker behind his eyes.  
  
The urge to reach out and grab Bilbo was still there, but it was… it was not as bad. Appeased by the press of skin against skin it was almost back to normal. The greedy thing inside his chest was still there, but now it wanted Bilbo to take him just as much as it wanted to take Bilbo.  
  
When the slick tip of a fourth finger prodded him Thorin shuddered and bore down. His position left him with little to no leverage, and that was just as well, he wasn’t supposed to move after all.  
  
But Bilbo liked it when he talked. He’d even said as much before, that night they’d spent together beneath the skin-changers roof.  
  
“Inside me, now,” Thorin panted, shifting his grip, almost losing it entirely when Bilbo again made sparks flash.  
  
“Yes, yes,” Bilbo babbled as he patted Thorin’s stomach, fingers moving up to hook the edge of the bowl, spilling the oil over Thorin's stomach before smearing his fingers through it. “You feel, amazing. Thorin, are you-“  
  
“ _Now_ ,” Thorin repeated.

-  
  
As Bilbo pushed his cock inside Thorin he mentally did a list of everything he’d need to buy if he ever got to see his pantry again.  
  
Thorin was so hot and slick and snug that Bilbo feared things would end embarrassingly soon unless he managed to distract himself at least a little.  
  
He’d been hard the entire time he’d fingered Thorin after all, and so had Thorin, so maybe- maybe it would be all right if this wasn’t the longest tumble in the-  
  
 _Carrots, onions and leek_ , Bilbo told himself as Thorin groaned and clenched around him. _Ham, cheese and beets._  
  
“Is it-“  
  
“More,” Thorin demanded. “Harder. Take me. Make me feel it. Make me feel you.”  
  
“Not going to hurt you,” Bilbo gasped as he started thrusting, trying different angles until he found the one that made Thorin’s eyes flutter close, thick dark eyelashes trembling against his cheeks.  
  
Only it was a little too effective, and when Thorin’s hands and legs slipped and he lost his grip blue eyes flashed open again, now wide with something close to panic.  
  
“Shhh,” Bilbo said, slowing his pace. “It’s all right. You can hold on to the sheets. Stretch your arms out.”  
  
The sheets were already a mess anyway, and it was easy enough for Thorin to grab at them, bunching the fabric up inside his fists.

-  
  
“Lift your leg, just a little more, yes good. Very good. So good for me.”  
  
Thorin’s skin felt too tight and Bilbo was too far away, wasn't touching him enough, but that was good because then Thorin couldn’t hurt him. He-  
  
Both Thorin and Bilbo startled when the sheets ripped, and Bilbo overbalanced and tipped forward, pushing him all the way inside of Thorin, pressing their chests together, pressing Thorin’s cock between their bodies, and Bilbo’s hands settled on Thorin’s arms for support.

Thorin’s own arms reflexively came up to try and catch Bilbo, his hands settling on Bilbo’s sides, and they froze like that, for several long moments.  
  
Then Bilbo made a soft, desperate sound and strained forward to be able to kiss Thorin. Just barely being able to make their lips meet before Thorin hunched down and returned the kiss as he gently, gently, gently stroked his thumbs over Bilbo’s skin, concentrating on the touch.   
  
“Thorin, Thorin, Thorin,” Bilbo chanted as his thrusts grew erratic and lost any semblance of rhythm. “Thorin, please, please.”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin promised. “Anything. _Bilbo_.”  
  
“Come for me. Thorin, please.”  
  
And Thorin did, three more slides of Bilbo’s cock inside of him and Thorin came without even once touching himself, his seed smearing slick and wet between them, his cock rubbing against the lovely softness of Bilbo’s belly that even months on the road hadn’t been able to banish entirely.  
  
When he came back to himself Bilbo was shaking and shuddering in his arms, collapsing to rest his head against Thorin’s chest. His hips twitching a final few times before stilling.  
  
“Are you all right?” Thorin rasped, stroking messy curls away from Bilbo’s forehead, needing to see his eyes. “Did I- Are you-“  
  
“I’m fine,” Bilbo said as he raised himself up on slightly shaky arms. They both hissed when Bilbo pulled out, and Thorin squirmed as he could feel Bilbo’s seed begin to make its way out of him.

But when Bilbo murmured something about a wash cloth and began to move away, Thorin reached out and curled his fingers around Bilbo’s wrist.  
  
“Stay.”  
  
“I was just-“  
  
“Stay. Please.”

-  
  
“If we get glued to each other, I’m blaming you,” Bilbo grumbled as he moved down to lie beside Thorin. “I’ve got you all over my belly. Are you all right?”  
  
He didn’t get an answer immediately, and for a moment he wondered if Thorin had actually fallen asleep between one moment and the text. There was something relaxed and quiet about his body now, something that hadn’t been there before.  
  
But-  
  
“I’m fine,” Thorin said, his voice a quiet rumble in his chest that Bilbo felt as much as heard. “Thank you.”  
  
“My pleasure,” Bilbo said, finding Thorin’s hands and twining their fingers together.  
  
Three small words balanced on the tip of the Hobbit's tongue, almost hanging of the edge when Thorin hummed and pressed a kiss to the crown of Bilbo’s head, stroking his thumb over Bilbo’s knuckles with a feather-light touch.  
  
But he didn’t say them. It wasn’t quite time yet.  
  
But Bilbo was sure that that time would come.

**Author's Note:**

> As an aside, this is kinda a subversion of the kind of fic where Bilbo would have been like, okay, it's all right if you hurt me. I can take it. I trust you.
> 
> I'm sure that he'd have considered it worth it, and it's not like Thorin would have *really* hurt him after all, just, bruises and such, bites, and there'd even been enjoyment in finding bruises on himself that Thorin had been the one to put there.
> 
> Only... Thorin didn't want that. He really didn't. He'd have felt horrible afterwards. Especially since I think there's some gold-sickness already beginning to lurk due to the nearness of Erebor. So some part of the possessiveness was actually more than Thorin's normal inclination for that trait.
> 
> So yeah I think this is a much better solution, and one that has consent all the way from both of the people involved.  
> Safe, sane and consensual, peeps. All equally important.
> 
> With time maybe they can explore the other side of Thorin a bit more, but it won't work at the moment.  
> Bilbo might trust Thorin not to do any lasting damage, but Thorin doesn't trust himself. 
> 
> But he did trust Bilbo to keep him under control. *nods* Which I find very sweet.  
> And I think that's enough review/meta about my own story lol


End file.
